


Late Night at the Vet's Office

by Pearl_Unplanned



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Non-powered AU, Peggy Carter (mentioned) - Freeform, Pets, Potentially injured animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4154214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl_Unplanned/pseuds/Pearl_Unplanned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony's dog starts limping, he takes the Jack Russell Terrier to the vet, not intending on meeting anyone special there. AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night at the Vet's Office

             The large, brown tabby tomcat, curled up on his chest, meant more to him than anything. Large, soft golden eyes and a loud, rumbling, broken purr greeted him whenever things were bad, or when it all seemed like too much to handle. After losing his parents as a teen, and then his best friend in the army, Steve didn't think that he had anything left to live for.

            Then Anthony came into his life.

            The large dusty tomcat was once a pitiful little kitten who was starving, screaming, and unable to get out of the cardboard box that someone had left him in what appeared to be a few days previous. Steve had found the little guy near death but still going strong, not giving up on the idea that someone might find him. Steve had then taken him home, given him food, water and a loving home... and the sassy tomcat got bigger and stronger.

            Suddenly Steve had something to live for again. He took care of Anthony, and he could focus once more. His nightmares started going away, and when he still had them, they weren't as bad as they used to be, especially when a friendly, fuzzy face was there to wake him up before things got too painful. Steve wasn't sure what he'd do without his cat, and hoped that he'd never find out.

            Steve got back into art, like he used to do before the war. Anthony was one of his greatest inspirations, and he ended up doing a lot of pet portraits for people who were very willing to support the struggling artist with PTSD. Everything was going great—Steve loved his routine, he loved getting to paint for a living, and he loved having Anthony there with him. That cat meant everything to him.

            So when Anthony started sleeping more than he ever used to, and when he started _avoiding_ Steve, he knew that there was something wrong with his poor cat.

 

            His little Jack Russell Terrier was the only thing that seemed to keep Tony sane nowadays. Running a business all day long was troubling, so getting a chance to take his pup to the park and run off some frustration was wonderful. Steven was always full of energy and always seemed to keep Tony on his toes. The little dog acted like he'd had more caffeine to drink than Tony did, which was _really_ saying something, and while the dog was a bit crazy sometimes, he also kept Tony on a routine that was vital to his recovery.

            After being kidnapped and tortured in Afghanistan, Tony hadn't been able to properly return to 'normal civilian life' as Pepper had put it, so she had done something to change the way he worked. She bought him a tiny Jack Russell pup that at first drove him crazy—the tiny beast wouldn't leave him alone; it kept following him and chewing on his feet and shoes and pants and _everything_ —but eventually he learned to love that dog more than anything. More than his own _life_ it felt like, sometimes.

            While Steven could be a crazy dog most of the time, there was always plenty of time in the evening when the 'caffeine' seemed to wear off, and Steven was the sweetest, most loving lap dog in the world. He'd sit on Tony's lap or chest while Tony figured out new plans for his business or went over blueprints and designs. Tony loved that dog, and he was finally happy again. Steven helped with his PTSD, with his daily life, and with every problem, little or big, that he had to face.

            So when Steven started limping one day, Tony knew there was something wrong with his poor dog.

 

            "Mr. Stark, you have to wait your turn like everyone else," the receptionist said, pointing one of her manicured fingers to the waiting area. There were _several_ other people there with various animals sitting either in their laps, by their chairs, or in some sort of cage/pet transportation. After a brief three second glance, Tony guessed that there were around fifteen other people here with at least that many animals, if not more.

            Tony sighed, moving Steven over to one arm so that he could pull out his wallet. Why not just bribe the receptionist? There could be something seriously wrong with Steven's leg, and he wasn't going to wait to find out sometime later that he should've been seen by the vet sooner.

            The woman raised an eyebrow at him and stopped him before he could even open the wallet. "Don't even think about it, Mr. Stark. Everyone waits their turn. You've been put on a list, and you'll only be seen when your name is called. Understand? We do not accept bribes here." Wow, harsh. "But if you don't want to put that away, you could always donate some money to our local shelters."

            "Kill or no kill?" Tony asked, not wanting to get money out until he received an answer. Steven wiggled in his arms, yapping and trying to get put down onto the floor.

            "No kill," the receptionist replied, so Tony dropped whatever it was he took out into the box before wandering over to find an open seat. At this hour of the night, he hadn't been expecting so many people to show up. There was only really one open seat, but the guy sitting next to him—while the guy was extremely attractive and Tony liked looking at him, he had a _cat_ on his lap, and Tony wasn't exactly sure how Steven would react.

            "Is this seat taken?" Tony asked.

            The man who was sitting in the other seat looked over at him. He looked tired and worried, with one hand stroking his cat's back. "No, it's open... your dog won't attack my cat, right?"

            "He likes cats," Tony lied. He didn't really know if Steven liked cats, but he really hoped that he did. Tony collapsed down into the seat, keeping his terrier or his lap. Since it was the evening, Steven continued to be lazy like he always was once the sun went down. He rested his head against Tony's lap and wagged his tail.

            "He's a cute dog," the attractive man said. "Did you get him from a shelter?"

            "I did... why?"

            "You just made a large donation to the local shelters," the blond man said. "Not many people do that... but you, uh, you're... Mr. Stark, the billionaire, right?"

            "Yeah," Tony sighed. Great. Anyone interesting or handsome that he met, they _always_ knew who he was, and therefore already had a picture of who they thought he was in their head. So he couldn't even think about dating any of them. "You've heard of me?"

            "I, uh, heard the receptionist say your name... and you've got an appointment next week with me to get a portrait of your dog done," the man said shyly, scratching behind his cat's ears. Tony was a bit amused by the purr that came from the cat—it sounded like a broken motorboat. You know, in a cute way.

            " _You're_ Mr. Rogers, the pet artist guy?" Okay, so he hadn't been expecting that. Of all of the places to run into someone he hadn't met yet... This wasn't what he was expecting the artist to look like. He was thinking maybe a skinny, starved-looking man with too many cats in a small apartment. Okay, that sounded kind of mean, but it was true.

            "Yeah, the... pet artist guy," Mr. Rogers laughed hesitantly. "Weren't expecting me to look like this? I used to be a soldier."

            "Ah," Tony said, nodding. That explained a lot. For just a second, Tony wondered if maybe this 'Mr. Rogers' guy might understand a little bit of what he was going through with the whole 'PTSD thing' that was constantly bugging him.

            Tony watched as the 'line' started to get shorter as more and more people were called to go talk with the vet. The later it got, the less people were there. It wasn't long until Mr. Rogers was the only other person in the room.

            "So hey, uh, do you think that maybe... you might want to get some coffee tomorrow? With me?" Mr. Rogers asked. There was a faint blush growing on his face, and those baby blue eyes of his wouldn't look over at Tony. It was cute. "I-I mean, I'm sure you get hundreds of people asking you out all the time, I'm going to be your client, and I don't even know if you're gay or not so this was a really bad idea, I know—"

            "Hey, calm down," Tony laughed, leaning closer to Mr. Rogers. He whispered, "I'm bisexual."

            Tony jumped backward, surprised, when the big tabby cat on Mr. Rogers' lap hissed and swiped at him.

            "Sorry, he gets a little... possessive," Mr. Rogers murmured. "So then... can I meet you over at the coffee place down the street? Say, at around eleven?"

            Tony grinned and nodded. He hadn't been expecting to meet a hot artist who apparently was going to be painting his dog next week (thank God Pepper talked him into getting a portrait _painted_ instead of having a photographer do it), but life worked in mysterious ways, and he was still just trying to stay caught up. "Sounds like a date," Tony said. "I'll have to get Pepper to watch my pup for me."

            Steven wagged his tail at hearing Pepper's name. Tony knew that she gave him bacon bits when he wasn't looking.

            "Pepper?" Mr. Rogers asked. Was he nervous, or _jealous?_

            "My secretary and friend. She's the one who talked me into getting a dog," Tony said, grinning. "He's my baby, and she's his Aunt. She spoils him."

            Mr. Rogers chuckled. Tony made a mental note to make that happen a lot more.

            The receptionist stood up and cleared her throat, catching both men's attention. "Steven, you're up next."

            Tony scooped his pup into his arms as he stood up. Mr. Rogers also stood up, his cat in his arms.

            "Oh," Tony said, realizing who the receptionist was talking to. "Your name must be Steven. My, um, my dog... his name is Steven."

            Mr. Rogers laughed at that. He patted the Jack Russell's head and murmured, "Well hello, Steven. And Mr. Stark—my name's Steven Rogers, but I'd prefer it if you called me Steve."

            "Anthony Stark, but I'd rather go by Tony," he said, holding out a hand to Steve.

            Steve's mouth curled up in an amused grin. "Your name's _Anthony?_ My cat..." He laughed again. "My cat's name is Anthony."

            "Seriously? You're not making this up?" Tony asked. That was the strangest coincidence in a long time. "Well, that's a bit surprising."

            "Maybe it's fate?" Steve suggested.

            "Steven, _darling_ , Ms. Carter will see you now," the receptionist said a little impatiently.

            Steve grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Angie," he murmured, keeping his cat cradled in his arms. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr. St—I mean, Tony!"

            Tony watched him hurry off towards the back room where the vet, Ms. Carter, would be waiting for him. He smiled to himself as he sat back down and Steven hopped up with his paws on Tony's shoulders before he started licking his owner's face.

            As it turned out, a dog who didn't like the new food he was getting (hence he paw-chewing resulting with a sore paw that he carried above the ground) and a cat who was just getting a little territorial (and aging, too, but those alley cats were really bugging him) caused two soulmates to find each other that lonely night.


End file.
